Chapter Four
‘Hello? Earth to Maura, are you receiving us?’
It took Maura several seconds to realise Effie was speaking to her.
She looked up from the plate she was glazing to see all three pottery students observing her with varying degrees of subtlety.
Cordelia was frowning down at the clay before her but darted a curious glance Maura’s way.
Sharon had stopped her habitual humming along to the radio, while Effie was staring with her head cocked, not in accusation but in mild concern.
A bubble of consternation burst in Maura’s stomach as she realised she’d missed Effie’s question.
‘Sorry,’ she said, offering an apologetic smile. ‘Did you need something?’
Effie pursed her lips. ‘A winning lottery ticket, new knees and a husband who knows how to put the toilet seat down,’ she said. ‘But what I actually wanted to know is whether everything is okay. You’re very quiet today.’
‘Not that you’re ever noisy,’ Cordelia clarified. ‘But you seem a bit preoccupied. Not quite with us.’
‘You do keep sighing, though,’ Sharon said.
Maura threw her a startled look. ‘Do I?’
Effie nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. And us mere mortals might be prone to huffing and puffing when the clay won’t do what we want, but you’re a pro and that poor plate is starting to feel as though it’s done something to upset you.’ She eyed Maura levelly. ‘Has it done something to upset you?’
The suggestion made Maura glance down to the workbench, where the plate sat in mute accusation beneath her dripping brush.
It was possible she’d gone overboard with the blue-green glaze.
‘It’s not the plate,’ she said, and sighed, the sound escaping her before she could catch it.
‘I got an odd message through Artsy, that’s all. From someone on Jamie’s rugby team.’
‘Not a pervy pic,’ Effie groaned, rolling her eyes. ‘What is wrong with people?’
‘Nothing like that,’ Maura said hastily, her cheeks tingling. ‘But he did ask to meet up. For coffee.’
Sharon snorted. ‘And the rest. What a chancer.’
But Cordelia was frowning. ‘Did he say what he wanted?’
Maura thought back to the message that had arrived a few hours earlier.
She hadn’t been aware Liam knew about her pottery, much less where she sold it.
Perhaps Andy had mentioned it, although she couldn’t begin to imagine why.
But somehow, Liam had found her Artsy page and had got in touch.
‘Just that he wanted to talk, and that it needed to be face to face,’ she said.
‘He split up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago so I suppose it must be related to that. I’m friendly with her; maybe he thinks I’ll be able to explain what went wrong or help change her mind. ’
‘Has he talked to you about relationship problems before?’ Cordelia asked.
‘No,’ Maura conceded. ‘We haven’t spoken much, to be honest, beyond hello or goodbye at the clubhouse. That’s what makes it so tricky – obviously my loyalties lie with Zoe but she’s not answering my messages and I can’t help wondering if Liam is looking for a sympathetic ear.’
Effie raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m not sure it’s your ear he’s interested in.’
‘What?’ Maura stared at her. ‘I don’t think—’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ Effie said, shrugging. ‘You’re an attractive woman. His ego has taken a kicking. Maybe he sees an opportunity to make this Zoe jealous.’
Sharon tilted her head. ‘Or maybe he’s been in love with you this whole time and Zoe found out and that’s the reason they split up. That’s why she’s cut you off.’
For a moment, Maura was speechless as a whole world of horrifying possibilities unfolded before her.
She would have known, wouldn’t she? There would have been clues – long, lingering looks and excuses to talk to her.
Jamie might have noticed too; he’d been unreasonably suspicious of Fraser’s motives and he spent a lot more time with Liam.
And finally there was Zoe herself, who was younger, bubblier, blonder.
Why on earth would any man fall for Maura when he had a woman like that in his arms?
‘No,’ she managed eventually, stinging from the act of comparing herself to Zoe. ‘I’m pretty sure that’s not it.’
Cordelia clicked her tongue. ‘Stop it, you two. Can’t you see you’re not helping?’
To be fair to Effie and Sharon, they had the grace to look instantly shamefaced. ‘Sorry,’ Sharon said, turning red. ‘I’ve been watching too much TV.’
Effie bobbed her head in apology, although the set of her shoulders remained faintly mutinous. ‘I suppose it’s possible he just wants to talk.’
‘Exactly,’ Cordelia said. She glanced at Maura. ‘So what are you going to do?’
Gaze dropping once more to the unfortunate plate on the workbench, Maura tried to make sense of her jumbled thoughts.
Effie and Sharon were wrong, she was sure about that, but she couldn’t shake the faint whisper of doubt at the back of her mind, the niggling suspicion that there was more to Liam’s message than a desire to pour his heart out.
But she had no idea what it might be. ‘I’m not sure Jamie would be happy if I met him. ’
The three women exchanged glances. Sharon cleared her throat. ‘From what you’ve said, I’m not sure he’s ever happy.’
Which probably meant she was oversharing, Maura, realised, making a mental note to watch what she said in the studio. It was easy to join in when her students bemoaned their relationships but it was perhaps not entirely professional. ‘No, but—’
‘He’s a grown man,’ Cordelia said, her tone a shade acerbic. ‘Surely he’s not so insecure that you can’t meet someone for coffee.’
Maura shifted uneasily. When she put it like that, it did sound ridiculous. ‘What about Zoe? She’s my friend.’
‘A friend who isn’t answering your messages,’ Effie pointed out. ‘Has she done anything to reassure you she’s okay?’
‘No,’ Maura admitted. ‘I haven’t heard from her for a while, actually. I thought perhaps she wanted a clean break.’
‘There you are, then,’ Effie said.
Cordelia gave Maura a knowing look. ‘Is it going to bother you if you don’t find out what he wants?’
Maura sighed. ‘I hate the thought of him not having anyone to talk to. The rugby crowd aren’t – well, let’s just say some of them struggle to admit their feelings.’
‘He must have other friends,’ Effie said, folding her arms.
‘I have no idea,’ Maura said, and that was part of the problem. She couldn’t be sure who else Liam had.
Cordelia turned her attention back to her clay. ‘I’m afraid there’s only one way to resolve this, Maura. And I think you know what that is.’
Conscious that Sharon and Effie were watching her, Maura swallowed the sigh that was threatening to escape her and dredged up a rueful smile. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, picking up her brush and dipping into the glaze once more. ‘I’m going to have meet him, aren’t I?’
Despite reminding herself she had nothing to feel anxious about, Maura was still jittery and unsettled as she crossed Cockburn Street and pushed back the door of her favourite coffee shop.
She’d chosen it as a comforting venue, one where she was on first name terms with most of the baristas, who served excellent coffee and the most melt-in-the-mouth pain au chocolat she’d ever tasted.
Not that she expected to be eating while Liam confided in her, but there might be one or two left over that she could take home.
She arrived ten minutes early, optimistic that four o’clock on a Wednesday might be a good time to snag one of the coveted window tables facing the Warriston steps, but a quick glance around told her she was out of luck. Both windows were occupied.
‘There’s a two-seater round the back,’ Giulia the manager said when she spotted Maura peering past the counter. ‘Any good?’
‘Perfect,’ Maura said, and placed an order for her usual hazelnut latte. ‘I’m expecting a friend – tall, dark hair, rugbyish. Can you send him through if you see him before me?’
‘Leave it with me,’ Giulia said. ‘Go and take a load off. I’ll bring your coffee over.’
Smiling her thanks, Maura did as she suggested, casting a longing look at the remaining pastries as she passed the end of the counter.
Right on cue, her stomach rumbled, reminding her of another missed lunch as she’d lost track of time in her studio.
She’d buy one on the way out to eat as she strolled back to Dean Village.
The rear of the coffee shop did not get much natural light and felt a little cramped, although several strings of fairy lights did their best to make things cosy.
Two of the three tables were empty, with the third being occupied by a young man wearing oversized headphones and staring at a laptop.
He didn’t look up as Maura chose the one furthest from the door to the toilets and hung her jacket across the back of the chair nearest the wall.
No sooner had she settled into the seat than Liam materialised, his bulk blocking out the bright lights from the front of the café.
She waved, relieved his timekeeping was better than Jamie’s. ‘Hello.’
Eyes downcast, he nodded in greeting and slid into the chair opposite her. ‘Hello, Maura. How’ve you been?’
His gaze flicked up at the last moment and she took in the sallow tinge of his skin, the pinched unhappiness around his lips.
But the thing that caught her attention most was the livid black and purple bruising that bloomed around his left eye and spread down his cheek to his jaw.
The eye itself was bloodshot and still slightly swollen, although she’d seen enough of Jamie’s rugby injuries to judge this one was a few days old.
‘That’s quite the shiner you’ve got there,’ she said, shaking her head in rueful admonishment.
Jamie’s face had been badly bruised on Sunday morning, although the damage was nothing like as dramatic as Liam’s.
‘I gather the match got a bit feisty on Saturday – did you give as good as you got?’